© All copyrights belong to StarsAndMoon1447 on Wattpad

*

WARNING: This story will be a little long, but I promise, I'll try not to drag on topics, and will always try to add twists and turns to keep you all interested.

It's just that I have too many things for this story in my mind, and I keep getting ideas. 

Also, in my previous books, I have added in readers as special appearances, so if anyone is interested, let me know. :) It's just my way of showing appreciation to you guys.

*

Anabia

"Anabia?"

I felt the voice from a distance, but I wasn't sure who it was.

"Anabia?" 

I slowly opened my eyes and the blurred figure of my mother stood in front of me. I blinked and cleared my vision and saw her staring at me with concern.

"Go upstairs and sleep." She told me, running a hand over my head, wincing a little as she bent down.

I sat up straight, too rapidly, and realised I had fallen asleep on the living room sofa. "Mama, what are you doing waking around?" A wave of dizziness made me close my eyes.

She sat down beside me, brushing my hair off my face. "I called you three times, but when there was no reply, I got worried and came downstairs."

"Yeah...I dozed off." I stifled a yawn.

She took my hand in hers. "Anabia, go home." 

"What?" I glanced at her, sharply. "No! I'm here to look after you!" 

"Anabia, I can't look after you right now, so it's best if you go home."

"I'm not here so that you can look after me!" I was bewildered. "I'm here for you!"

"You are going to exhaust yourself, Anabia. I know how it was with twins." She said. "Go home, please." 

"I'm not going anywhere! I can't believe that you don't want me here!" Standing up, I made my way towards the doorway.

"Where are you going?" She asked wearily.

"I'm going to check on dinner." 

"Don't overwork yourself."

"My doctor has told me that there's nothing wrong with doing minor housework." I replied, heading into the kitchen.

She followed me. "It's not that I don't want you here, Anabia. I'm just concerned about your health."

"I'm just sleepy, Mama! It's not a big deal!" I snapped. "Is my presence really that unbearable to you?" 

"I'm going to excuse your behaviour for now." She frowned. "But I haven't raised you to talk to your elders like this, Anabia. And especially considering that you very well know my intentions."

"Fine." I turned to face her. "I'll go home. And then what? I'll stress myself out even more, worried about you. Is that what you want?" 

"What's going on?" Saim came into the kitchen, also frowning. 

"She wants me to go home!" I told my twin.

Saim glanced at Mama, and then at me. "So, go. I'm here, as is Laila. For now, we're here until we figure out how to go ahead..."

"So you don't want me here either?" I glared at him.

Saim looked at Mama helplessly, who sighed and turned to me. "Anabia..." 

I didn't mean to be this defensive. I was just feeling really sensitive all of a sudden. 

"Quit being a drama queen." Saim spoke up. "Go and chop the tomatoes. I'll chop some onions. I'm gonna make a salad with dinner and you'll help me out, Ana. Mama, please go and sit down and relax."

Mama walked out and I headed to the fridge to get some tomatoes.

"I don't want you to stress her out, and I don't want her to stress you out." He spoke as he started peeling off onion skin. 

"She needs to stop treating me like I am incompetent just because I'm pregnant." 

"She's worried that you'll overwork yourself. Be understanding, don't overreact."

"Well, I'm worried about her overworking herself. She never cares about herself and she continues with her normal routine, even if she's in pain..." My voice broke. All day I'd been imagining how she had fallen and how much pain she would have been in, and it made my heart cry out. Mama was the woman who had single-handedly sheltered me and Saim from all harm, from all trouble, and seeing her in pain was like a dagger in my heart.

As I was slicing the tomatoes, Saim came and stood beside me. I looked up at him questioningly.

"What shall we do?" He asked, quietly. "Shall we move back in?"

"That's for you and Laila to decide. It's not for me to say, Saim." 

"For a part of me, for the son, I know that answer firmly. I want to move back in. But then I think about how she'd always said that it's best for us to live separately to avoid family politics. What if things turn bad in the future?" 

"Do an Istikhara. It's for all major decisions, isn't it?" I suggested. "And, you need to seriously consider that Laila is the one who made this suggestion. That's a very positive thing, Saim. She's an amazing person, and we know that already because we've known her since over a decade."

He nodded, looking thoughtful.

"But as I said, do an Istikhara. Rather than asking me, ask Allah for advice." 

*

Laila and Saim went grocery shopping after dinner, to the twenty-four-hour supermarket. 

I sat on the sofa eating slices of apple, watching a drama with Mama.

"Allah! Yeh apni pregnant beti ko kaisi kaisi baatein sikha rahi hai!" My mother was muttering about the character on TV, who was provoking her daughter regarding her in-laws.

*"What kind of things is she teaching her pregnant daughter?" 

I laughed. "I'm carrying the heirs or heiresses, or one of each, of Rehan's family. Shall I act like that?" 

"Khabardar." Mama lifted her finger towards me in warning, taking it seriously.

*"Don't you dare."

"Mama, seriously? Do you think I have that mentality?" 

"Main kabhi nahin chati ke koi bolay ke akeli maa apne bachon ko achi tarbeeyat nahin de saki." She shook her head.

*"I never want anyone to say that a single mother couldn't raise her kids right."

"A) I'm not like that. B) My in-laws are not like that." I ate another slice of apple. "Nina Aunty often lightly tells Rehan off while defending me." 

"Bechara bacha. Itna acha hai aur khamkha tumhari wajah se daant khata hai." Mama smiled.

*"Poor guy. He is so good, and he gets told off unnecessarily because of you."

I giggled. "Main bhi bohat achi hoon. Ainwayi nahin woh sadqay jaate mere pe, Ma Sha Allah."

*"I am also very good. He doesn't dote over me without reason, Ma Sha Allah." 

"Allah! Sharam nahin aati maa ke samne aisi baatein karte huay!" Mama teasingly pulled my ear.

*"You don't feel shy saying these kind of things in front of your mother!"

"Shouldn't you be happy that your beloved twins got such loving spouses, Ma Sha Allah?" 

"'Beloved' is being too generous, don't you think?" Mama asked. "More like troublesome, chaotic and dramatic. I feel sorry for Rehan and Laila, actually..."

I gasped. "Mama, seriously?" 

She laughed, sitting back on the sofa. "I'm satisfied. In fact, I am incredibly happy. Alhumdulillah. There's no prayer where I don't thank Allah for the fact that you and Saim are both happily settled in your married lives."

"Thank you for all the sacrifices you made for us. You weren't even thirty-two when that man ripped the whole family apart, but you have been here for us like a strong pillar, Alhumdulillah. We love you and appreciate you so much, Mama." I rested my head on her shoulder and a tear slipped out of my eyes.

"I don't need you to thank me, Anabia. One day you'll see that a mother is willing to sacrifice anything for the sake of her kids, without a word of complain. You and Saim are my entire world, and even though I had to go through the pain of divorce, I'd go through all of it again as long as it means that I have you two."

*

"Anabia?" Laila came in the doorway of my room the next morning.

"Yes?" I was just making my bed. 

"Mr and Mrs Tariq are here, with Yasin." She informed me.

I straightened up, surprised. Well, I shouldn't really have been surprised. Ever since word got around about Mama's fall, we have been having people come over: it stared with a very pale Hareem and her new husband Emaad Bhai. Hareem had almost seemed like she was panicking and had hugged Mama when she had greeted her. Later, Gul Aunty, Anaya Bhabi and Hareem's sisters had visited. And finally, Laila's parents. Mama had felt embarrassed at all the attention, yet she looked touched that so many people cared about her to ask.

"I'm coming." I told her.

Today, I was wearing a blue kameez of my mother's with tiny colourful flowers printed on it, along with black maternity tights. I quickly ran a brush through my damp hair and grabbed a black lace dupatta before heading downstairs. "Assalam Alaikum." I greeted as I entered the room.

"Walaikum Assalam!"

Tariq Uncle stood up and placed a hand over my head, giving me blessings, and as I turned to my mother-in-law, she also stood up and gave me a hug. I glanced towards Yasin over her shoulder and smile at him as he gave me a little wave.

"How are you, darling?" Nina Aunty asked me.

"I'm well, Alhumdulillah." I smiled at her. 

Uncle was chatting to Saim, asking him about his work. Mama and Nina Aunty were sitting on the two-seater sofa, while Yasin sat on the armchair.

"Yasin, let your Bhabi sit, my darling." Nina Aunty told my brother-in-law.

"It's okay, Aunty. I'm fine. Would you like tea or coffee?" I asked.

"Don't worry. I'm on it." Laila appeared by my side. 

Nina Aunty turned to Mama. "You need to start ordering groceries online, Khadija."

"I can't get into that technology nonsense, Nina. Besides, I'd rather go out. The fresh air and the walk does me good." Mama replied. "Besides, as we age, these things are bound to happen." She smiled at Nina Aunty. "But you really didn't have to bring all these dishes, all this food." She turned to me. "Your mother-in-law had so much food cooked. She said I can freeze some and use it later, just to help me out."

"Khadija, don't be ridiculous. It's nothing." Nina Aunty said. She frowned at me. "Didn't that son of mine come today?" 

"He'll come soon, Aunty." 

"He called me. He said he'll come after work, Nina." Mama told her. "Ma Sha Allah, he's a very good, very respectful man. I'm blessed that Anabia got a husband like him."

I excused myself and headed into the kitchen where Laila was preparing the hot beverages. "Let me help." 

"You know what, Anabia...no matter how much pain we go through in life...Allah finds a way to heal the wounds. He gives us people to help us in all sorts of times of need." Laila looked at me. 

"Yes, Alhumdulillah." I nodded.

"We will do all we can to ensure that she gets ease in life now." She said. "Saim and I will move back in here, because a huge way of pleasing Allah is serving our parents. I want Saim to be rewarded greatly for it, and I want Allah to be pleased with me for something him in this."

"In Sha Allah." I put a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Laila."

I felt a sense of peace knowing that Saim, and a loving and caring person like Laila will be here with Mama. Again, I couldn't help thinking that this was Mama's ease after years of hardship.

May Allah maintain this peace within our family. Ameen.

*

Hareem

"The US?" Emaad looked confused.

"Yes, I want you to take me back to your hometown, show me where you grew up, where you used to live." I said, excitedly. "I want to know everything about Emaad Malik Ghafoor, the way you know about my past, my life."

We were pacing the garden between the annexe where Mama and I lived, and Faiz Bhai's home. I had called him here when this idea had occurred to me. 

Wearing jeans, a knee length grey crocheted sweater and black ankle boots, I had my hair in two braids, Anabia-style. Emaad wore black jeans, a white sweater and a brown jacket that seemed perfect for this early winter weather, along with black boots. 

He looks hot. Ma Sha Allah.

"I lived in a boring hometown, nothing exciting. Are you sure that's where you want to be? We could go anywhere tropical, warm, but you choose my hometown?" 

"In Sha Allah, there will be plenty of time to go places. This is the time to get to know each other, and this is how I want to get to know you." 

He took his hand in mine. "Sure. Let's do this." 

I grinned. "I'm so excited." I squeezed his hands, looking up at him. 

"You and your ideas are very unique, Hareem. Ma Sha Allah." 

"The backstory of a person tells you a lot about them, right?" I said. "What will I find out about you, Emaad Malik Ghafoor?" 

*

Rehan

"I am getting married." Faisal announced.

I raised both eyebrows, and Josie glanced at him sharply. Her last days with us were fast approaching and she had already started to clear away her things. 

"To whom?" I asked. 

"The daughter of a neighbour of our relatives back in Karachi." He replied. "The elders of my family were in talks, and it's now confirmed." 

Josie was staring at her desk, pretending to focus on some paperwork, but I could tell that this was causing her a lot of pain.

"Faisal, I feel like you're acting a little impulsively." I began. "You never mentioned this to us. You are not the type of person who would hide good news from your friends." 

"It is what it is, Ray. I've surrendered to my elders' wishes."

"What is your wish?" Josie asked him, quietly.

He looked startled at her question. "M-My wish?" 

I felt like I had to let them have this conversation, so I got up with the pretext of making a phone call. "I'll catch up with you guys in a bit."

But as I walked to my own office, my phone actually rang. I glanced down at the screen and was surprised to see Saim's name. "Assalam Alaikum, Salay Sahab."

"Walaikum Assalam, Rehan Bhai." He sounded like he was hesitating to proceed.

"Everything okay?" 

"I need your help..."

*

I got out of my car outside Saim's apartment building and strode towards the entrance. After Saim buzzed me in, I headed up the stairwell to Saim's floor. 

Knocking on the door, I could already hear agitated voices from inside. 

Saim opened the door, looking irritated and anxious at the same time. "Assalam Alaikum."

"Walaikum Assalam. What's up?" I asked him.

"Come in, please." He gestured for me to enter and I stepped into the warm, narrow hallway. Saim closed the front door and led me through the doorway to our left and into a living room. The floors were laminated and three-seater cream sofa, as well as a matching armchair was placed in there with a white fluffy rug. Just opposite the sofa was a TV which rested on a TV table on which I could see a PlayStation and a lot of games. Behind the armchair was the window, and above the three seater sofa hung a framed 'Ayat-ul-Kursi'. 

On the armchair sat a balding man with a white moustache, looking through a file. He looked up as I came in.

"Rehan Bhai, this is Patrick, my landlord." Saim explained. "Patrick, this is my brother-in-law, Rehan Tariq." 

"What's the issue?" I asked Saim.

"I'll tell you what the issue is." Patrick jumped up to his feet, his face turning red. "He had a one-year contract signed with me, and now he is backing out." 

"He wants me to pay the full rent for the remainder of the year if I want to leave, but the amount is a little too much." Saim muttered, his head lowered almost as if he was ashamed. "I was just requesting if I could possibly pay in monthly instalments, rather than one-time payment. He is adamant that he wants a one-time payment. It's not even in the contract that it has to be a one-time payment!"

"There was no break clause in the contract, which means without my agreement, the tenants can't leave early." Patrick huffed.

"Do you have the contract?" I asked.

He practically shoved it in my hands, and I sat down to read it. Patrick sat back down, and Saim nervously leaned against the wall by the TV, seemingly chewing his nails. 

"All this is saying is that if the tenants wish to leave early, they'll have to pay the rent until new tenants are found..." I muttered.

"Which I agree to do so, which would be monthly, right?" Saim jumped in.

"You pay the way you have already been paying." I nodded at him. "You might also have to be liable for reasonable costs, included for the costs of the estate agent if a new replacement has to be found." I looked at Patrick. "It doesn't say anything about him having to pay it in a lump sum."

"Well, I wish for it to be a lump sum..." Patrick said, weakly.

"If it was written here in the contract, my brother-in-law would have no issues in doing so. But since it's not in here, you cannot make unreasonable demands." I stood up. "I'm going to have a lawyer look at this. Until then it's best if you do not intimidate, bully or threaten my family, unless you want to face serious legal action." 

Muttering under his breath, Patrick walked off and soon we heard the front door slam shut.

"S**t." Saim muttered, sitting down on the sofa. 

"Look, as per the contract, you'll have to pay the monthly rent, and possibly some costs for the estate agent. Don't let him bully you into doing something that you're not required to by law. I'll speak to a friend of mine, and I'll get back to you. Until then, don't even think about lump sum payments." 

"I didn't know about this nonsense. I didn't think about it when I first signed the tenancy agreement. I didn't have the knowledge or right guidance." He ran both hands through his hair.

"When I rented out my first place in my early twenties, it turned out that the landlord was charging me double. It was only during a discussion with a friend of my father's did my tenancy agreement topic rose up, and he casually asked me to have a look at the contract." I chuckled. "Sometimes you learn things the hard way." 

"Thanks, Bhai." Saim smiled genuinely at me.

"It's okay, Salay Sahab. I don't need to be thanked for helping out family." I still held the contract in my hand. "I'll speak to the lawyer and get back to you, okay?" 

"Is it okay if we keep this between us for now?" He asked, hesitantly. "I'll tell Mama and Anabia once it's all sorted. Laila knows anyway."

"It's your secret, Salay Sahab. I won't say a word." I promised.

*

DECEMBER

Anabia

The snow flurries falling outside had me mesmerised. I sat in my book corner of my new home, my feet up on a footstool, cupping a mug of hot chocolate. My phone beeped and I glanced down at the notification to see that Hareem had uploaded something on her social media account.

It was a photo of her and Emaad Bhai having a snowball fight. They had been delayed in the US due to the snow storm hitting the east cost of the US. Underneath it was the caption: May we have many more snowball fights like this. In Sha Allah ❄️ #Married #USA #gettingtoknowhim #snow.

 I liked her photo and commented underneath: I miss you, Harry. 😭

She immediately liked it and replied within seconds: I miss you too...three...😉. But worry not, when I am back, In Sha Allah, you can come and stay over with me and Mamma before my Valima (and unofficially official rukhsati!).

I shifted uncomfortably in my position. I was in my fifth month now, and we were soon going to be going in for the appointment to see what we were having. 

I heard the sound of footsteps, and Rehan walked in his expression tensed as he spoke to someone on the earpiece. He was dressed for work, with his jacket slung over his arm. He looked around with a frown on his face as if he was searching for something. With a knowing smile, I waved at him until I got his attention, then pointed towards the area where the TV was. He glanced over and a sheepish smile appeared on his face as he saw his laptop bag. He glanced at me and I winked at him.

"I'll see you in the meeting." He ended the call and walked over to me, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "How are you feeling?" 

"Pregnant." I pouted. "Want to swap positions?" 

"I don't think I'm strong enough to handle it." He leaned down to kiss my belly. "Bye bye, sweethearts. I'll see you in the evening, In Sha Allah." Then he moved up and kissed me. 

"I'm going to work tomorrow, Rehan." I told him.

"Are you sure? You have been feeling so unwell lately..." He looked worried.

"I've been promised that I can do office work, and that's all I'm going to do. But in two to three months, I'll be going on maternity leave anyway. So I might as well work as much as I can." 

"Okay, but just be careful, okay?" He kissed me a few more times, small pecks on my lips that sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach as if we were kissing for the first time. 

"Allah Hafiz." I whispered. A cheeky part of me was tempted to take him by the lapels and drag him to our room and keep him busy for hours... Anabia! I blushed at my thinking. 

"Allah Hafiz, Anya." Kissing my forehead.

It was barely twenty minutes after he had left, and I was cutting up some fruit in the kitchen when I felt a strange sensation in my stomach. My eyes widened. "Oh my Allah! The babies are moving..." The movement was light but obvious. I felt tears in my eyes and a small smile appeared on my face. My babies. Alhumdulillah, Ya Rabbil Alameen.

*

WARNING: Language (however, as always words are censored with asterisk *)

Rehan

"Mr Tariq?" 

I looked up from my laptop and saw Matthew, my new PA, standing in the doorway. Five foot five, with cropped blonde hair and blue eyes, he was fresh from university, after completing his Masters in English Literature, and was selected by Josie herself because he showed a lot of promise. "Yes, Matthew?" 

"There's a man here to see you. He says his name is Zohaib Waleed."

What the f**k does he want? I sighed, sitting back in my chair. "Send him in." 

Matthew nodded and headed out. 

I tried to finish the sentence I had been writing, but my concentration had evaporated. A light knock on the door made me look up, my jaw clenching instinctively. "Assalam Alaikum."

"Walaikum Assalam." Zohaib Waleed's hair had more streaks of white now, and he seemed weaker...however I didn't fail to spot the Rolex on his wrist as well as his seemingly branded suit.

"Please, have a seat." I said, my tone formal. I was tempted to throw him out, but whether I liked it or not, he was Anabia's father. An insult to the word 'father', but nevertheless her father.

"I found out that Anabia is expecting." He began as he sat down. "Congratulations to you both."

"Thank you." I said tonelessly.

"My daughter has done nothing but sacrificed her wishes and dreams for the sake of her family. She had always been such a good daughter, and it almost saddens her to see her today."

"What are you talking about?" A hint of irritation leaked into my voice.

"She wanted to travel the world, experience cultures, see new things. Khadija told her that she could do all of that after marriage." He said. "Now she's bound. How much can one do after kids, especially with twins? I know how Khadija sacrificed her youth for Saim and Anabia." 

"From what I hear, Khadija Aunty had little to no help. So, naturally, she had a difficult time." I was unable to resist myself from pointing this out. "In Sha Allah, this won't be the case with Anabia. You don't worry about her; whatever her dreams and aspirations are, she can share with me." 

He stared at me thoughtfully for a while, but I wasn't fazed. 

"Why are you here?" I asked directly. "To try and tell me that marriage to me, and now her pregnancy, is going to be an obstacle in her dreams, her goals?" 

"I want to see my daughter, and I know that you can convince her." 

"Why would I do that? Why would I encourage her to meet the person who has caused her so much emotional and mental trauma?" 

"I'm her father, Rehan. Don't forget that." 

"And what exactly are your motives?" I asked. There was something about his facial expressions that made me feel that he had some dishonest ulterior motives. "I know you enough now to know that you don't do anything without a selfish purpose behind it. What the f**k do you want?" 

"Everyone looks forward to being a grandparent. I just want to be involved in my grandchildren's lives." There was not a hint of emotion on his face. It was as if he had memorised some dialogues before coming here.

I stood up. "F**k off." 

"Excuse me?" He also jumped to his feet. 

"I said f**k off. You are talking about my kids. And I will die before I let you anywhere near them." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Now get out of here before I call security."

"Anabia is my daughter. You cannot keep me away from her, you controlling b*****d."

"I wasn't talking about Anabia. It's her choice whether she meets you or not, although I would advise her not to, and she tends to listen to me." I was talking about your so-called random love for your grandchildren, i.e. my kids. You are not going to be involved in their lives and I am telling you this very, very clearly, because I do have the right to decide that." 

He walked around and grabbed me by the lapels, furiously. "I challenge you today, Rehan Tariq. Anabia is emotionally weak, and I will convince her. And once she is convinced, I will be a part of their lives."

"I'm not shocked that you don't know what a father is, but I will show you myself how a father protects his kids." I shoved him lightly and lifted up the intercom. "Security. There's a highly delusional man in my office which I need you to get rid of."

He stormed out of my office, muttering profanities loud enough for me to hear.

His sudden 'love' for his grandchildren made me suspicious. He was up to something, and it was my responsibility to keep my twins safe from his schemes.

*

Third Person POV

Zohaib Waleed was in a foul mood as he stormed out of the building. He dialled the number, letting a few more swear words escape his mouth as the phone rang at the other end.

"Hello? Did it work?" A husky voice spoke on the other end.

"No. Stubborn b*****d."

"Don't be discouraged. Anabia is your hope." 

"She won't agree. He'll talk to her and she'll listen to him." He grumbled.

"Anabia has a soft heart. Her family is her weakness. She is the one you should have approached first, Zohaib. But never mind, it's still not too late."

"Yes, it is. Rehan will talk to her and get her on his side."

"Focus on your goal, and do whatever it takes to achieve it, Zohaib. I trust you." The call ended with that.

His goal. A small smirk appeared on his lips. He had been advised about a quick way to earn money: vlogging. And ever since he heard that Anabia was having twins, he and his partner had been building up schemes. Firstly, they were the twin children of Rehan Tariq, a New York Times bestselling author. Secondly, who didn't adore videos of babies, especially twin babies? His daughter's kids could make him rich.

If only this was all available when Anabia and Saim were babies. I would have been a millionaire by now.

He glanced down at his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He didn't have to go far, just further down into the letter 'A'. 

Anabia.

Target Anabia. She's weaker. She will be convinced, for the love of her father. Remind her of the things that you did do for her as her father, but do it discreetly so that she doesn't suspect a thing. Her twins can be a way for you to earn money, Zohaib Waleed, but you really would need Anabia on your side for that.

*

Anabia

"Hello?" I answered uncertainly. I heard sniffing on the other end. "Papa, are you okay?" 

"I'm a repenting person, Anabia. All I want is forgiveness." His voice broke. "I went... I went to Rehan's office to see if he can help convince you to for-forgive me. B-But he had me thrown out of his office in a humiliating manner. I fell on my face, thrown by his security as he watched."

My eyebrows furrowed together. That doesn't sound like Rehan.

"I want...I'm sorry, Anabia. Please, I have suffered so much because of my deeds."

"I know there's another woman in your life." I snapped. "Clearly, you haven't changed, so don't try this with me."

"I...I found your doll the other day, Anabia. The one you used to clutch onto as you went to bed. It made me sob, my dear. I loathe myself for how much I have neglected you and Saim, and I want your forgiveness, Anabia. I want you to forgive me, so that my soul can have peace." 

"I..." 

"My sweetheart, my dear Ana." He whispered. "You have no idea how much I beat myself up internally for how I let you and Saim down, but especially you. All I am requesting is one meeting."

My eyes filled up.

"Grandparents look forward to playing with their grandchildren, but Rehan said he will forbid you and his kids from seeing me. Does he have a right to do that Anabia? Does he have the right to prevent a father and daughter from making amends? Does he have the right to prevent you from deciding whether you want your kids to meet your father or not?" 

"Papa..."

"Come meet me once, Anabia. I want to apologise to you. I want to make amends."

I was in a dilemma. At the end of the day, he was my biological father. He was begging me to come and see him. He wanted to apologise and make amends. Who was I to refuse someone who was repenting, when even Allah forgives people? "I'll let you know soon." I ended the call abruptly.

I heard the sound of the front door opening, and I paced the living area, frowning.

Rehan came in the doorway. "Assalam Alaikum."

"Walaikum Assalam." I turned to him, arms crossed over my chest. "Did my father come to your office today?"

He stiffened, his jaw clenching. "Yes, he did."

My heart sank. "You shouldn't stop him from trying to make amends with me, Rehan." 

"Anabia..."

"You have no right to!" My voice rose unintentionally. "He called me. He was crying and saying that you will forbid me and the twins from seeing him. How could you decide that? How could you decide for me that he doesn't deserve a chance at repentance?" 

"Wow, master of manipulation." He said, sarcastically. "That b*****d is messing with your mind and emotions, Anabia."

"He was crying! At the end of the day, he's my father, and I can't kick him away when he comes to me crying and begging for forgiveness! I'm answerable to my Allah as well!" I was trembling with anger. "You should not have decided that for me, Rehan!" 

"Are you believing him blindly without even asking me my side?" He looked at me in disbelief.

"I'm just saying that anyone who wishes to repent genuine, deserves a chance!" 

"He is not being genuine!" His voice rose as well in frustration.

"What are you, a mind reader?" 

He turned his back to me, taking a deep breath as if to remain calm. 

"I will go see him and hear him out." 

"I can't dictate what you do or don't, but he'll be a part of my twins' lives over my dead body."

"Rehan!"

"Forgive him, form a father-daughter bond with him, I don't care, but he will have nothing to do with our twins."

"They're my kids too, and if I forgive him, why should he be kept away from my kids?" 

"He's right, Anabia. You are emotionally weak, and he has already played with your mind and emotions before I even got back from work. After everything he's done, you still got manipulated by him. Unbelievable."

My cheeks burned. "I'm not stupid! Don't call me that. But I am not a hard-hearted person to deny a person a chance to find forgiveness."

"He's not being genuine. I'm telling you now. Don't accuse me later that I didn't warn you."

"That's for me to decide." I mumbled. 

He pursed his lips briefly, before walking right up to me to stand in front of me. "Prove him wrong, Anya. Think logically, not emotionally. Are you really going to trust him over me? I know that he's your biological father, but think about everything. I love you genuinely and it's tearing me apart internally to see you being manipulated by him like that." 

"If you love me, you'd trust me- not control what I should do or not do, like I don't have a brain of my own." 

He looked really peed off now. "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. But remember one thing, Anabia Zohaib. He will have nothing to do with the twins. I don't care whether you forgive him or not, he's not coming near my kids once they are born."

"We'll see about that later." I turned and walked away towards the kitchen.

A few moments later, I heard the front door slam again and I winced. 

I picked my phone up and messaged Papa.

<Anabia: When can we meet?>

*

I know that a lot of you might feel mad at Anabia right now, but I'm just trying to see how easy it might be sometimes for our loved ones to emotionally manipulate us sometimes.

Will this rift between Rehan and Anabia grow deeper?

Zohaib and his scheming are never-ending. That's what happens when you love money more than even your blood. 

But who is this new partner of his?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!